


The Calling's Cure

by writeandfight



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Exploration, F/M, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 19:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16708396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeandfight/pseuds/writeandfight
Summary: Warden Julia Tabris and Zevran Arainai go in search of a cure for the Calling. They have many misadventures and high jinks with a healthy dose of dark fantasy. (Also posted on Fanfiction.net)





	The Calling's Cure

**Preface:**

**There are a few things that you must understand about this Warden before we begin:**

  * ****Her name is Julia Tabris. She is of the city elf origin. She has pale skin, green eyes, and brown hair in two spiral braids at the back of her head. (Think Anora’s hairstyle.)She is a rogue.****


  * **She romanced Zevran and he is in this story.**


  * **Julia approaches most situations with violence or carelessness. She is violent and cruel. She mostly indifferent to the world and does not easily show emotion besides anger, boredom, and exasperation. She only truly shows how she feels to Zevran and close companions. If you’re into horoscopes, think Scorpio. She cares deeply about the Grey Wardens because they are the ones that saved her from a life in the Alienage.**



 

**Chapter 1: The Western Approach**

Julia entered the small tavern on the outskirts of the Western Approach seeking to know more about what exactly she was getting into. The tavern smelled of cheap ale and poorly made Orlesian wine. Julia’s piercing green eyes surveyed the room, taking in all its occupants.

There were loud drunks causing a mess and a ruckus, making Julia grimace in disgust at their raucous behaviour. The bartender looked tired and worn by the drunks’ loud talking and laughing, sharing Julia’s sentiment. He was definitely ready to meet the Maker. A scholarly looking Orlesian man sat in the corner reading and drinking wine.

Julia approached the bartender and ordered some ale. After taking a sip, it tasted just as she suspected, like piss. The drunks further annoyed her and spoiled her mood more than it had been.

Julia slammed her mug of ale down and turned forcefully to the drunks. “Maker’s Breath! Why don’t you fools shut your mouths!?”

The drunks stopped laughing and looked angrily at her. “Oh, yeah? Why don’t you make us knife-ear?!”

That comment boiled Julia’s blood. She had had enough with these idiotic quick*. She drew her blades, ready for a fight. As soon as the drunks realized she was armed they backed down. “Wait-- wait a minute, we don’t want any trouble!”

“You shem always don’t want any trouble when you realise a ‘knife-ear’ is armed! Now get out of here before there really is some!” The drunks scrambled out the door at Julia’s words, blundering over each other. Julia let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to the bartender.

“You look like you could use another drink,” the bartender joked.

Julia was not in the mood for this. She rolled her eyes and finished the last of the ale in her mug. “What can you tell me of the Western Approach?”

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you, but you look like a woman who can handle herself. It’s a stark and sad place, it is. There’s unstable purple sands* and rocky pillars and ridges jutting out, ready to injure you, should you lose your footing. The winds are powerful and howling like a blighted wolf. At night, though, it all calms down and shimmering auroras are seen overhead, but don’t be distracted by it. The darkspawn claw their way out of the Abyssal Rift. So beware.”

How ominous, yet harmless so far. Julia could sense darkspawn from almost a mile off. She killed an Archdemon, she had nothing to worry about.

The bartender continued, “The animals, though, that’ll getcha. Nothing like ‘em in the rest of Thedas. All spiky and strange looking, and fiercer than any other blighted creature I’ve seen.”

“I’ve faced some pretty fierce things in my life.” Like an Archdemon and a horde of darkspawn.

“If anything it’ll be their strange looks that throw you off, but… what do you plan on doing out there anyway?”

“It’s confidential Grey Warden business. I can’t tell you.” It was Grey Warden business, but not on behalf of the Order, and it wasn’t exactly confidential.

“Did you say you were a Grey Warden?” The scholarly man in the corner was now looking at Julia. Great. Now everyone knew she was a Warden. It was just like being back in Ferelden where everyone knows your name and face. At least she got respect in Ferelden, in Orlais she was just another elf to be pushed aside.

Alas, she answered the man, “Yes, I am. What is it to you?”

“It’s just a coincidence I meet a Warden while doing research on their abandoned outposts in the Western Approach.” This piqued Julia’s interest. He looked competent enough, and with all the books around him he looked pretty into it.

“What do you know about the old Warden outposts?” Julia slid into the seat opposite him.

“Not much yet. I know they were used during the Second Blight. Adamant Fortress is still used by the Wardens.” Julia must have looked disappointed because he countered quickly, “I will learn much more when I investigate their ruins, though.”

“Do you know where any of these ruins are?”

“I have ancient texts and maps stating where they are, but whether any of them still remain is the question waiting to be answered.”

This scholar was exactly what Julia needed. “What is your name? Where are you from?”

“Philippe Baudelaire of the University of Orlais,” Philippe answered.

“Well, Philippe.” Julia leaned in. “how would you like to help the Wardens?”

*******

Julia, Zevran, and Philippe sent out into the Western Approach the next morning. The sun beat down on them and the wind whipped sand into their eyes.

Philippe tried to make small talk to Julia and Zevran, “So, you two are both Wardens?”

“No, he’s just an assassin,” Julia answered and gestured to Zevran.

“Oh. … What are you doing in the Western Approach?”

“We are looking for something that can save lives, if it exists. That’s all I can tell you,” Julia answered. Julia hoped a cure existed; if she was going to die, she was going to die trying.

They continued on in the heat and sand, stopping every so often to check the map they were following. The purple sands shifted strange and malevolent as it gave way beneath their feet. Julia grasped for anything to hold on to and managed to grab Zevran’s bag. The sand stopped sliding around her and she was dangling from Zevran’s bag as he held onto an edge of rock jutting out.

Julia looked around and saw Philippe at the bottom of the hole. He looked pretty much okay and she figured the sand would break her fall. There was something strange about the hole hidden in the shadows.

“Do something! I’m losing my grip!” Zevran broke Julia out of her thoughts.

“I’m letting go!” Julia let go without warning and dropped to the sand, hard. She let out a grunt and pulled herself up. No broken bones.

“You can drop down!” Julia yelled up to Zevran. “There’s something down here!”

Zevran dropped down and landed awkwardly, “Fuck!”

Julia killed her urge to laugh and asked, “Are you alright?”

“You could have warned me about the hard impact, but otherwise I don’t think I broke anything.” He stood up and dusted himself off in a vain attempt. The purple sand stuck to him, and Julia and Philippe, like glue. “Great. I actually liked this coat.”

Philippe struck a torch and looked into the shadows. Julia followed him and saw they were in some kind of old ruins. They felt cold, empty and looked like they hadn’t been unearthed since the Second Blight, which was probably true. Sand was spilled all over the floor, sparkling in the torch light...? Strange. The ruins had architecture Julia had never seen before. They advanced further into them.

Julia vaguely recognized the Grey Wardens emblem on the wall. “These ruins belonged to the Wardens.” Julia ran her hand across the emblem, enthralled.

They journeyed on until they came across an expansive library. Sand seeped from the cracks in the walls and cobwebs covered the shelves. Julia walked over to a table with papers and books on top of it. The texts were in a language she couldn’t understand. Ancient Tevene or ancient Orlesian? Or maybe even ancient Elvhen? Julia couldn’t be sure.

Philippe came over and studied the texts, “It says something about a ‘calling’ or maybe… I don’t know. I can barely read it.”

“What language is it?” Julia asked.

“There’s some ancient Orlesian, but most is something I don’t understand.” He sifted through the documents. “We should take these for examination.”

Something about a ‘calling’ this bode well for Julia; if only she could read it. She gathered up the documents carefully and put them safely into her bag. “Let’s keep going.”

They ventured deeper, so in awe of the ruins around them that they didn’t think to track their route. They entered a huge chamber and stood frozen in wonder at it. The chamber looked frozen in time. Everything was the same except for dust and cobwebs and a bit of sand on the floor. It was completely untouched by the destruction of the outside world.

Julia felt compelled to walk where the Wardens of the Second Blight had walked, but she felt… nothing. It was an empty abyss; almost consuming, yet desolately vacant.

Zevran seemed distressed as he ventured further into the room, turning his gaze upward and around. He went from distressed to horrified the longer he looked. Julia followed his gaze upward and saw the horror. There were ghoulish looking creatures stuck to the ceiling of the room, mouths twisted in a silent scream. They were trapped by the purple sand and the more she looked the sooner she came to realize that they were _Wardens_.

“Maybe-- maybe we should get out of here!” Philippe broke Julia and Zevran from their horror.

Julia pulled her eyes from the Wardens started for the door. Philippe and Zevran followed her. They moved quickly through the runs with Julia leading, though she had no real idea where she was going.

“Wait! Wait!” Zevran stopped Julia. “We’ve been through here before.”

Julia looked around and realized that it was true. She was so focused on getting away that she didn’t notice they were going in circles. “Which way do we go then?” Julia asked.

“I believe we go… no that’s not right.” Zevran looked around in a concerned manner. “Or was it… no that’s just where we came from.”

“Come on.” Julia pulled Zevran forward and picked a random direction and headed off. She just hoped she wouldn’t run into that chamber again. She shuddered at the thought of those Wardens on the ceiling. How did they get up there? What happened to them? Did the sand trap them there? If so, how did they get on the ceiling in the first place? The questions whirled around in Julia’s mind.

After what seemed like hours of endless roaming, they finally found the hole they had fallen down. It was dark now. The howling wind completely still, no longer whipping above. The sky was lit up with beautiful, shimmering auroras.

“How do we get back up?” Philippe asked.

“Uhh… climb?” Zevran offered.

“We can try.” Julia began to try to climb the sandy walls. It was difficult work, she kept slipping and sliding in the sand, but managed to make it to the top of the hole and get out.

Julia pulled Philippe up, who was having more difficulty than her and Zevran. Philippe marked where the ruins were on his map, so that he could come back later with people from the University to unearth the ruins. Julia checked to make sure the documents were still there and safe; they were.

Suddenly, a group of mages and warriors jumped from the shadows and began to attack them. One of them grabbed Philippe’s bag and tried to rip it from his hands. Julia grabbed the bag and pulled it out of their grasp with all her might.

“Get back!” she yelled at Philippe and drew her swords. She slashed at them with a flurry of blades.

One of them grabbed Julia’s bag and she dropped her swords to hold onto it. She pulled back with all her strength, but she slid in the sand and fell to the ground. Yet, she still had one hand like an iron grip around the strap of the bag. Swiftly, she was kicked in the side, hard. Her grip faltered for a split-second and she felt the bag fly from her hands.

“No!” she screamed and lunged for it, but felt another hard kick. The world spiraled down into blackness.

**1\. *quick: a derogatory term used by elves for humans, it’s less common than shem, so I thought I would cite it.**

**2\. *purple sands: this, and the rest of the paragraph, comes from the Dragon Age Wiki.**

**Link:** [ **http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Western_Approach** ](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Western_Approach)


End file.
